A Man Of Many Faces
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: Tyrion had not thought to see the light of day again. He'd expected to languish in the black cells until his execution, waiting for the Mountain to take his head in the morning. Until a man came. A foreigner from a distant land. A deal was made. An oath given. A partnership brokered. And from this simple exchange, the world changed. Narutoxharem. TyrionxShaexSansa. Vote via review!
1. And Who Are You

**A/N: REVIEW FOR IT FEEDS MY ETERNAL ENGINE OF CREATION! It keeps usssss alive!**

**I'm kidding of course, feel free to do as you please, dear reader.**

**Feels good to be back in the saddle again!**

**Game of Thrones for life!**

**I'm back, baby!**

**Whooo~!**

**I wrote this partly to test the waters and partially because I was challenged. If you like it? Great. The requester *redacted* was given this story as asked, but it seemed a shame to let it mothball and waste away, so I asked them if I could publish it. They were fine with it, so here we are. Again, if you like it and wish to see an unconventional take on things in which Tyrion isn't treated like an utter idiot by D&D, then great.**

**This quote gives a hint as to why our favorite blond is in Westeros.**

_"I curse you, Uzumaki Naruto. May your victory be ash. May your joy turn to ash in your mouth._

_May you wander for all time. May you never know rest._

_May you never know peace."_

_~a goddess._

**And Who Are You?**

_This was not whom he'd expected._

When the door to Tyrion Lannister's cell abruptly creaked open in the dead of night, he'd thought it was death waiting for him on the other side. That his lord father had grown tired of this perpetuating this grand farce and finally decided to end his life. He would be facing the Mountain tomorrow, alone. With no champion to stand for him. Perhaps he simply didn't wish to wait that long, and thus elected to end his life here and now in the wee hours before dawn. It would be a mercy. He did not envy his chances against Gregor Clegane. Or perhaps it would be Jaime, come to save him.

Yet it was not his father who emerged.

Nor was it Jaime, either.

Or even Cersei.

No, when the door swung back to reveal the flame of a torch, when the weary Lannister squinted against this sudden light among the dark, when his vision finally cleared enough to discern some slender semblance of a silhouette, found himself face to face with a young man. One he didn't recognize at that. But he saw the empty dagger's sheathe in his belt all the same. In a moment of wild, inarticulate fear the dwarf actually considered lunging at him, but thought better of it at the last. Even if he somehow made it past this stranger the guard behind him would no doubt execute him on the spot for trying to escape.

The door creaked ponderously shut behind his guest, denying him that swift death.

He found his face in fire.

Wild blue eyes stood out amongst a whiskered visage framed by an unkempt mop of blond hair; one that looked to be in dire need of a good brushing and a wash besides. Those keen orbs held his the moment he set foot into the cell, locking onto him with all fury and intensity of a singular passion. His armor-if one could call it that-consisted of little more than worn blue-on-black traveling leathers over which he'd thrown some faded green vest of foreign origin. Poor fool. He looked like he'd seen better days.

"So." when he spoke, he betrayed his age. "You're the imp."

Tyrion fought down a grimace.

Even after all these years, the name still stung. He'd learned to ignore it over time, to shrug off such spite with smiles, but nothing could quite blunt the silent sting that the accursed title brought. Imp. Dwarf. Half-man. Kinslayer. Monster. _You who killed your mother to come into this world._ Gods, he needed a drink. But curiosity reared its ugly head in him and he couldn't bring himself to turn this stranger away. After all, he would be dead by morning. What did he have to lose?

So he climbed down off his cot, spread his arms wide, feigned a smile he didn't feel, and addressed the newcomer.

"Here I am." the words emerged as a hoarse croak, not at all what he'd intended. "I'm afraid you have me at something of a disadvantage, ser...?

A sharp and short laugh echoed in the waning light of the black cell, low and bemused by the insinuation, though no offense was taken. "No, not a ser. Not a knight, either. I'm not from these parts. You wouldn't know my mother or my father." When he stabbed a hand into his belt, Tyrion fought down a flinch. But rather than a dagger it was a _water-skin_ that sailed toward him, laden heavy with drink. He knew at once, because he actually caught the damn thin and realized it was full to bursting with_ wine._

"Take it." his visitor commanded. "Drink. You look like you need it more than me."

Tyrion uncorked it with only the faintest flicker of hesitation.

"Its not poisoned, I trust?" he asked.

The blond slowly tilted his head.

"Would you like it to be?"

The surprisingly benign inquiry caught the dwarf in mid-sip and he nearly _whoofed _it back out with a gasp. It was only the man's laughter that stilled his fears and prevented him from hurling the drink in his face. His was not the laughter of a cruel man, but one who played an amusing prank. Keen blue eyes twinkled back at him in the fading firelight, quietly bemused by his reaction.

"Relax," his voice soothed, "I didn't leave Dorne just to poison you. Drink your fill."

Tyrion frowned, but did as he was bade.

There it was, the first nugget of information thrown down for him to inspect. Even in his battered state the little lion's mind remained keen as ever. He paused, taking another look at the stranger who had come to witness his final moments. He didn't look Westerosi but neither could he be call a foreigner either. A Northman he was most assuredly not, but neither could he be called Dornish either. He hadn't seen him with Prince Oberyn's party, which suggested they'd hidden him of he'd come of his own volition. Perhaps he hailed from the Summer Isles. Perhaps not. Who knew? Origins aside, there was a far more pressing matter that demanded his attention.

"Why are you here, friend?" he inquired.

"I wanted to see the man who killed a mad king." the stranger gave an immediate rejoinder, dropping to his haunches to get a better look at him. "I never got to see the last one."

"Robert or Aerys?"

Something ugly twisted behind that young face.

_"Aerys."_

Aha. There was a story there to be sure, but all the gods old and new told Tyrion not to press the matter any further. Some sixth sense shrieked at him when he opened his mouth, telling him that if he did, he would die as surely as Joffrey had. Choking and gasping for breath. So, in spite of his own burning curiosity, the littlest Lannister bit the side of his cheek and reduced himself to stoic silence. When at last he sorted out his thoughts and trusted his tongue not to betray him; only then did he dare to speak.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What does it matter who I am? I have a unique set of skills and a dislike of all things Lannister." came the ready reply. "I would use them to help you."

A seed of hope planted itself in Tyrion's chest, but he stubbornly smothered it before it could take root. "Men don't do things for free." he disparaged his would-be ally, still not trusting to his words. "And though my lord father is often fond of saying otherwise, I am indeed a Lion."

"I require no payment." those wide blue eyes regarded him for a long, piercing moment. "And you are _not_ a Lannister."

Silence ensued.

"You don't believe me." the stranger rocked back on his heels, chuckling softly. "You think that I'm a phony, some jester come to wring you out of the last of your coin. That's alright. Most people don't trust me when they first meet me. Doesn't matter. Perhaps a demonstration would prove my worth."

He paused just long enough to set the torch into a brazier.

To turn, and face him completely.

Then his hands...blurred.

In the hours that followed, Tyrion would wonder if he dreamed the rest. If they were merely the delusions of a man destined to die. Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps he was mad. Regardless, it didn't change what he saw nor what transpired. He watched the young man wave an empty hand over the torch, dimming its light. He saw him step back into the subsequent shadows that swelled to take their place. And when he emerged, that odd the young man was gone, as though he'd never been.

In his place, of all people, stood_ Cersei._

"Hello, little brother." she smiled at him. "Did you miss me?"

Tyrion jerked back as if he'd been struck and flung the wineskin away.

Still, his guest made no move to accost him, much less threaten him with harm.

He smiled at him with her face, spoke at him with her voice, moved with her body, gazed at him with her eyes.

"When you've been around as long as I have," his-her?-words oozed out at him like poisoned honey as she stepped into the shadows, "Life tends to lose its meaning. Kings come and go, rulers are cunts no matter the line or name, and the people always suffer for it. Then I heard tell of a man who killed a nasty little shit named Joffrey. Kingslayer they called him. Like his brother. Good on him, I thought. Joffrey was a rotten little shit. Bad leader, bad for his people, bad for a kingdom. Probably would've killed him sooner or later myself. Then you did. It caught my attention. And here you are."

When he stepped out of the shadows again he wore Jaime's form, armor and all.

"Rotting for a crime you didn't commit."

Yet the imitation was imperfect; his beloved brother's golden hand was nowhere to be seen, in place this "copy" bore a fresh limb in its place.

"You didn't do it, did you?" it was phrased like a question yet Jaime's voice mocked him still. "I know the look of a guilty man. Yours? Not it." he paused, considering the hand he shouldn't have. "Hmm. Not quite right, I take it? Makes this easier, I suppose." A short step carried him backward into the shadows once more, the light fading further still. "I wanted an excuse to strike at the Lannisters and I admit, I wasn't entirely sure about you until we met...but now...

When next he stepped into the light, when next he emerged, Tyrion found himself face to face with Tywin himself.

...I've never been mere certain about anything in my life."

Oh, he was good.

Whomever he was he was very good indeed. Not only the voice but the _tone _as well. He could very well be mistaken for the real Tywin himself. It was a facsimile of course, but a damned passable one at that. The sight of a smile-that smile!-on his lord father's face was more chilling than anything he'd seen in recent memory. Forget the wineskin, he'd need an entire barrel to get over this.

"Could you please...stop?" Tyrion croaked. "This all disturbing, and I don't have _nearly_ enough wine."

His father's weathered face creased in a flinty smile. "As you wish."

Another rush of smoke and the young man-or was he?-stood before him once more.

And in the silence, the Imp was left to ponder what he'd just seen.

"By the gods, who are you?"

After a moment he drew his dagger and knelt. "Many things."

"Used to be no one." the blond hummed, uncaring for the baffled look it gained him. "Got tired of it after awhile. Started doing what I do now."

At first, Tyrion didn't fully grasp his intentions, much less the reasoning behind. The shock likely had something to do with that; his once infamous wit found itself momentarily dulled by the sheer spectacle he just borne witness to. But his mind was quick to recover and he grasped the situation mere moments before the whiskered warrior spoke. It didn't stop his heart from lurching at the words that followed in their wake:

"They call me the Man of Many Faces. But you?"

Pearly white teeth flashed back at him in the gloom.

"You can call me Naruto." his grin grew._ "And I will fight for you."_

**A/N: Mountain's in for a bad time.**

**Alrighty there now, wait, stop PAUSE!**

**Naruto is of course, Naruto. Not quite who he claims to be, but still Naruto.**

**There's quite a story to be had there, but we'll save that for the next chapter, eh? Suffice it to say he's...been alive for awhile. As to why he bothered to seek out Tyrion...**

**...that's a story for another time.**

**First off, he's not a Faceless Man. Lets get the out of the way right quick. He's just abusing the hell of the transformation jutsu, which is VERY dangerous in Westeros. Think about it for a moment, if you dare. Any shinobi with even a moderate grasp on that technique could wreak havoc in Westeros. They could become anyone. Almost anything.**

**Think of this as more of a comedic adventure between, and less a romance.**

**I wrote this just to test the waters and simply because I was challenged. If you like it? Great. The requester *redacted* was given this story as asked, but it seemed a shame to let it mothball and waste away, so I asked them if I could publish it. They were fine with it, so here we are. Again, if you like it and wish to see an unconventional take on things in which Tyrion isn't treated like an utter idiot by D&D, then great.**

**If you don't?**

**It'll be gone in two days.**

**So there we are. Hope you enjoy.**

**Now, I'm about to get my chest cut open...fun stuff.**

**So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...**

**...Review, Would You Kindly? And of course, enjoy the preview! **

**(Previews!)**

_Gregor Clegane laughed._

_"You're small. Tiny. I'll crush you."_

_His opponent merely beckoned him forward._

* * *

_"And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low..._

_Tyrion sighed. _

_"Must you keep humming that?"_

_Blue eyes twinkled merrily. "What? Its catchy."_

**R&R~! =D**


	2. The Proud Lord Said

**A/N: (EDIT! Added more content because everyone seemed so charmed with the chapter! Hope ya enjoy~!)**

**WARNING!**

**THIS GETS...BLOODY. Its Game of Thrones after all. **

**There, you've been warned, so brace yourself for the end. Just wanted to tell you.**

**0_0**

**Well well well indeed!**

**Apparently people like this story if the near 600 follow rate and 100 reviews are anything to go by 0_0**

**REVIEWS FEED MY ETERNAL ENGINE OF CREATION! It keeps usssss alive!**

**I'm kidding of course, feel free to do as you please, dear reader.**

**Feels good to be back in the saddle again! Even after that...finale, I find that the site has never been stronger; from Season Eight dozens upon dozens of new stories have spawned, written by author new and old alike. I've read through quite a few of them**

**Game of Thrones for life!**

**I'm back, baby!**

**Now for the questions!**

**Q: Please save Shae. **

**A: Consider it done, m'lord.**

**Q: So, Naruto was cursed by Kaguya?**

**A: With eternal youth, yes. He can be killed of course, but we know how hard it is for him to die.**

**Q: More chaos! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!**

**A: You'll have it friend, that much I can assure you.**

**Q: How long has Naruto been in Westeros? Days? Weeks? Months?**

**A: This chapter explains quite a bit; it also shows he was well traveled. Read on~!**

**Q: Naruto's going to humiliate the Mountain, isn't he? That aside, its good to see Tyrion back to form. Always did love the little bastard. Although...you've had Naruto say he isn't a Lannister? Is there a story behind that one? A few reviewers**** compared Naruto to Gaunter O'Dimm from the Witcher 3. Aye, that'd be a good comparison.**

**A: Lets just say...Kings Landing is in for a surprise.**

**Clearly I own no references or characters or quotes, here.**

**There, I think I've blathered on long enough, so lets get back to the story shall we? Awaaaaaaay!**

_"I said I would fight for you. I meant it, you know."_

_"Why go to such lengths for me? I'm just a runt of a lion."_

_...as I have said before and will say again, you are no Lannister."_

_~A Man and a Dwarf._

**The Proud Lord Said**

_They talked long into the night._

Now that Tyrion knew someone was actually willing to fight on his behalf, he found he wanted to live after all. Quite badly, in fact. After the initial shock and blubbering-blasted bloody tears!-once he realized that he would no longer be subject to the horror of Gregor Clegane, relief loosened his tongue quite nicely and they discussed all manner of things that night, from the man's size and how he fought, to less crucial matters. Time passed quickly, here in his cell. He discovered his new ally had a penchant for a strange food he called Ramen, something not found in the Seven Kingdoms or even Essos for that matter, a fact he bemoaned quite loudly and quite often.

Moreover, he'd brought wine.

Glorious, glorious wine! He'd never been so thirsty in his life.

He downed half of it before he realized it and was well on his way to getting roaring drunk before the blond spoke.

"Careful now," his companion warned as the dwarf drank deeply of the wineskin, "Might be difficult to save you if you drown yourself."

Hmm. Sellsword had a point there. Reluctantly, Tyrion relinquished the skin to the floor, if only temporarily. Something told him he'd need every ounce of his wits on the morn; it wouldn't do to have them dulled by drink. Ugh. To think the day would come when he willingly forsook wine! Was the world coming to an end? In the end he reasoned if he couldn't drink, he could at least wring a few answers out of his newfound ally.

"Where are you from?" he inquired, wiping his mouth.

Naruto granted him a gravely grin. "What's west of Westeros?"

...I...don't know," the dwarf admitted, shoulders rising in a small shrug. "That's where all the maps end."

Blue eyes danced in the dark. "There's a reason for that. My ancestors weren't all that fond of being discovered."

Tyrion did a double take, feeling the color drain from his face. "Are there more of you?" Gods help them if there were.

"Unlikely." an ugly spark of anger danced in his allies visible eye as he leaned against a damp wall. "My village...my people...destroyed ourselves long ago. It was an old war. A stupid war." the shadows shifted again, and he glimpsed gritted teeth in the gloom. "My world is ash; as far as I know, I'm the last of my kind. Even then I only wandered over to your side of the world by chance and that was by blind blood luck. Almost an age ago, thanks to that damn curse."

Ah. This seemed a raw subject for him. Still, curiosity prevailed. "A curse, you say? I'm sensing a story there."

In response, the blond stubbornly folded both arms before his chest and tore his gaze away.

"More than you know, dwarf. If you survive tomorrow I'll tell you...someday."

Silence reigned between them.

"If I have offended you, forgive me." Tyrion began warily, not wishing to alienate his only ally in this foul place, "I'm afraid too much drink has loosened my tongue-

Clenched knuckles slammed into rock to cut him off with a start, eliciting a harsh crack from the soiled surface as they struck. Were those cracks in the wall? Tyrion strained to catch them in the dull light of the dying torch as it continued to fade. Why, they_ were._ What frightful strength that must've taken. Normal men couldn't slug stone without breaking their hand. Yet Naruto didn't so much as bat an eyelash. He merely punched the rocks again with a low growl, tearing great chunks of granite free from the wall.

Another beat of awkward tension trickled by.

"We _could_ leave now, you know." Tyrion ventured awkwardly, for lack of anything better to say. "I suspect the guards won't be able to stand up to you."

"We could try." his host granted him a sour look. "I wouldn't recommend it. Your family will hound you to the ends of the earth if you leave now. Might get you sooner or later. Your choice. Then again," he hummed, "Your sister's like to try regardless. Shame, really. She looks so much like her mother...yet she's not half as clever. Too much venom."

"Wait." Tyrion perked up at this unexpected revelation, brows creasing. "You knew my mother?"

"Once." his guardian bit out. "I'll tell you all about if we make it through this."

...I think I'd like to live a bit longer, then." he decided reluctantly.

Naruto muttered something to himself in a foreign dialect and stubbornly shook himself as if to ward off whispers. "Good. Its better this way. If you want to survive, you'll need to make a statement tomorrow. A big one. Make your enemies second guess themselves. Make them so afraid to even _think_ of crossing you, that they'll never make the attempt."

"And _you're_ that statement, I suppose?"

_**"Aye."**_

Of course, Tyrion could've attempted an escape himself at any time; but back then, the likelihood seemed slim indeed. The dwarf would later discover that the man guarding his cell had been quite soundly knocked out and dosed with an inordinate amount of Milk of the Poppy by his visitor for good measure. Perhaps it would've been easier if they had; it certainly would've helped the two of them avoid all manner of the nasty entanglements that followed. But Tyrion didn't know that. Moreover he didn't _want_ to escape; to flee now would've been tantamount to admitting guilt.

No, he wanted revenge. Vengeance, in the worst wary. His good name-such as it was-had been dragged through the mud by the people of King's Landing, besmirched and torn apart by everyone in his family save Jaime, and he was nearly made lame by the loss of his hand. Even those he held dear were lost to him, Bronn plainly refused to fight the Mountain outright, Podrick was no match for that big brute and _Shae..._

The little lord fought down a wince.

If the gods were good to him he might yet see her again, might be able to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness; to explain why he'd done what he did. Unlikely. She'd taken their parting...poorly. Enough to testify against him at any rate. They seemed to have a cruel sense of humor these days. Then again, they'd sent this peculiar young man to his doorstep, so who could say? Ah, if only Jaime could see him now. Treating with a man of many faces. Or was he actually faceless man? If so he felt rather honored, all things considered. Their skills were legendary.

And then the topic turned to the very woman on his mind.

"Before we continue this little partnership of ours, I want to ask something." without warning Naruto abruptly dropped down on his haunches, considering him as a cat might an amusing mouse. "Is there anyone you care about in King's Landing? Anyone at all beside your brother? No I'm not asking about your squire or the bloody sellsword. They can take care of themselves." he scooted closer, a rare look of concern crossing his once stoic countenance. "I'm asking because if this goes south, we'll have to leave in a hurry. And it might still turn sour, regardless."

Now it was Tyrion's turn to twitch, flinching as the blond's words tore open an old wound.

"I _had_ someone." he admitted, nearly spitting the words. "She betrayed me."

Tan ears twitched. "Why?"

Tyrion told him. He wasn't sure why; but he did anyway. Words poured out of him before he could think to hold them back. Minutes trickled by, evolving into an hour, and still his guest didn't interrupt. Indeed, for all of his earlier outburst the Man of Many Faces listened quietly. Intently, even. And once he'd finished he reared back...

"I'm sorry for this." He apologized in advance.

"Wait," Tyrion blanched, "Sorry for what?"

...and he stomped on his foot.

The blow was decidedly gentle given the strength he'd displayed earlier, but it made Tyrion yelp and jerk back all the same.

"Ow!" he hissed, clutching his aching boot, "What was that for?!"

"For being stupid, that's what!" Naruto's voice rose in rebuke, and for a moment, just a moment, those cerulean orbs burned red in the torchlight. "If you wanted your woman to leave that badly then you should've just knocked her out and thrown her on a boat to Braavos. No? Didn't want to hurt her? Bah!" Noting the dwarf's disgruntled expression, he pressed the point ruthlessly. "For crying out loud, you could've drugged her then and spared yourself the misery! Instead, you decided to break her heart. Shatter it, into a thousand pieces. No wonder she turned against you!"

"That's not-

"Listen to me, you!" In an attempt to hide his silent shame Tyrion tried to turn away, but Naruto would have none of it. His hand snaked out and seized him by the chin, forcing him to look back. "You loved her, I think." he murmured. "She likely loved you. And then...you hurt her." his eyes gleamed in silent understanding. "Badly. So she decided to hurt you back the only way she knew how. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I'm sure she regrets her actions just as much as you."

"I'll admit, I didn't think that through." grimacing, he turned his head away on a sigh. "Not that it matters. Somehow I doubt I'll be seeing her again. She's likely left King's Landing by now."

Those blue eyes hardened with a fleeting hint of something but he didn't respond.

_The man knows about her,_ Tyrion thought. All the wine in the world wouldn't force it from him. Perhaps he knew where Shae was now, perhaps he had an inkling of things Perhaps it was the drink loosening his tongue, but wounded dwarf found himself curious all the same.

"That skill of yours...just how good are you with it?" when this remark earned him a puzzled look, he hastened to elaborate, "Can you take on any face? Any form? Living or dead?"

"I'm no faceless man, if that's what you're asking." His ally's whiskered visage quirked in a small smile as he leaned back in the torchlight, leaving the shadows to run ebony fingers across his face like a lover's caress. "I admire their craft, but mine is...different. Less subtle.

"Different how?"

With an annoyed tut the young man stood, snatched the wine from him, and vanished in another plume of smoke.

To his great shame, when it faded, he found himself face to face with none other than Catelyn Stark. "She" pulled the stopper from the bottle back and drank deeply.

"Does this answer your question?" she quirked an eyebrow. Gods, it was even her voice and it brought such shame to him to see a dead woman staring back at him. How did he _do _that?

Tyrion raised his arms with a rueful laugh. "My first still stands."

Another haze of white smoke greeted him and the wineskin sailed back through at him. He caught it with a rueful smile as his host continued their lesson.

"I have to see them at least a handful of times." Another plume, and he found himself gazing up at Dothraki savage bearing a great braid. "Know what they look like, you know? Study their habits, appearance, style of dress, that sort of thing. Otherwise any impersonation on my part would be a shoddy one and it wouldn't take." Naruto paused then, momentarily waving his hand over the torch and its fading flame. Momentarily, the dying light flared at his touch, lending a brief bolt of light to the cell.

He was still gazing into the flames when he spoke.

"Some are easier than most." as if to elaborate this very point he surrounded himself with smoke and shifted shapes yet again, taking on the guise of an alarmingly fat man with green eyes and thinning golden hair whom he suspected might have been his grandfather, Tytos Lannister. That wrinkled visage creased in a smile and he weaved his hands together again to revert to his true form. "See your brother for example; I know his speech patterns well enough, but I didn't know he'd lost a hand, which left me with a dated image of him."

"And now that you know?" Tyrion pressed, a seed of an idea taking root in his mind.

Another snap and Petyr Baelish beamed back at him, bounding on the balls of his feet like an eager child. Bloody uncanny.

"I can't become anything terribly large for more than five minutes at most unless I know every aspect of it," he spun away to pace the cell in a storm of silk, it lent the scheming man a positively savage countenance. He'd never look at Littlefinger the same way ever again. "Even then my bones will start to break from the strain. So if you're hoping for a dragon to burn the Mountain, I'm afraid you're out of luck. I haven't even SEEN what one looks like in this world. But aye, that's the long and short of it."

"Fascinating." Could this actually work? He needed to know more. "How well do you know the noble families of Westeros?"

Pearly white teeth flashed back at him and he found himself face to face with a very familiar face indeed.

"I've seen my fair share, my lord." the whiskered warrior drawled, smirking as he took on Robb Stark's likeness, much to Tyrion's chagrin. The chaos he could cause with such a face, if he had only the will. "I've been all over Westeros and across the Narrow Sea. Why? Have something in mind?"

With that, the seed spread it roots and Tyrion caught himself smiling.

"I'd like to give the good people of King's Landing a scare." he answer with a grim grin. "What say you? Up for a little deception?"

"Deception, you say?" The Man of Many Faces snapped back to his true visage and tilted his head at him, akin to a curious fox. "You're talking about a prank, aren't you? Count me in. Its been ages." A small wistful smile plucked at his face and those deep blue eyes drifted shut as he experienced a particularly poignant memory._ "Ohhh_ the stories I could tell you. Ask me about the four faces sometime."

Tyrion's mind whirled in confusion. "I...beg your pardon?"

Naruto laughed, not at him, but at some jape the lordling didn't understand.

"I'll tell you later, little lord." the blond beamed. "I'm a ninja. Tricks are our bread and butter. We live for them."

A dark silence swelled between the two man, exile and dwarf alike. Eventually, the latter told him of what he intended. Naruto suggested something better. Now it was Tyrion's turn to listen, and though he found the boy's plan audacious, a brief demonstration put his fears to ease. The Man of Many Faces possessed many skills it seemed; changing his appearance was but the least of them compared to this. A Man of Many faces indeed. He hadn't thought him capable of such a skill.

A disbelieving laugh rose in the cell.

It was not a pleasant sound; it rather resembled the sound of a mutt, a stray dog once loyal to its kin, that had been kicked one too many times. A harsh bark of disbelief, mixed with delight. Truly, the gods had a foul sense of humor. To deliver such a man to his doorstep was one thing, but this...this could change the world. How many more could he make? Hundreds? Thousands? A Man of Many Faces indeed! He hadn't expected to take the title quite so literally!

"To living, then!" he raised the wineskin high as the last of the light guttered out. "And making fools of men." Countless arms rose in the cell to join him, dozens of blue-red eyes gleaming back at him in the dark.

The _Men _of Many Faces each granted him a grim grin.

They were all teeth._ Like a shark._

And the little lord laughed.

_"Shall we begin?"_

* * *

_(...0o0o0...)_

* * *

_Later that evening, Kings Landing was paid a visit by the ghosts of their past._

From the greatest lord to the lowest lying whore, half the city suffered, caught deep in the throes of a nightmare made real. Or was it a dream? Come morning, many men and women would swear they'd been visited by dearly departed and left with fond words. Others claimed they'd seen their worst enemies brought back from the dead. Still more would lie and claim they'd suffered naught at all, their eyes hiding horrible secrets they'd thought long forgotten. Black magic they called it, a trick of the moon, foul sorcery, dark dreams, all these things and more. Strangely enough a handful were spared this torment, the Kingslayer and the Red Viper chief among them.

One might dismiss it as a bad dream. Two, a coincidence perhaps.

Ah, but three of them? Four? Five? Six?

_Dozens?_

Even Tywin Lannister was not immune to these depredations.

Try as he might he couldn't wake from them. Even all his mettle, all his will, he found himself tormented.

_You've ruined us,_ they said. They haunted his every step, condemning him for his every sin, every perceived slight. Father roared at him and struck as he'd never done before._ Ruin! Ruined! You'll bring about the death of our house!_ Aerys cackled at him, running those ghastly unkempt fingernails over his face. _Traitor. Oathbreaker. _the madman rasped at him._ Man without honor. I should've burned you with the rest. _But perhaps worst of all was_ Joanna. _He had not dreamnt of her in decades since her death yet now her half-decayed face spit at him, her body clad in rotten finery as she raged at him.

_You're going to kill our son, Tywin! _Her wails rattled him to his very bones._ My boy, our boy, our littlest boy!_

One such "visit" would not break the Lord of Casterly Rock, even when he thrashed out of bed and glimpse one of those so-called ghosts for himself. He was built of sterner stuff, more than most men. He did not believe in magic. Snarks and grumpkins he called them. What did he have to fear from the ghosts of his past? But a single crack etched itself in his stony heart nevertheless. He did not sleep that night, nor did many.

It was the work of a single man.

A single army unto himself.

A Man of Many Faces.

* * *

_(...0o0o0...)_

* * *

_They came for him at dawn._

Scarce had the sun risen than two guards burst into Tyrion's cell and dragged him from his bed with all the subtlety of a raging storm. Jolted from fitful slumber, the dwarf feared the events of last night had been just that; a dream. It was only the drying taste of fine wine on his tongue and a faint scrap of paper tucked into his sleeve that reassured him otherwise. He had time enough to glimpse it-and conveniently stash it up his sleeve before his would-be executioners seized a' hold of him and frog-marched him from the dark cell that had been his home and into daylight. He glimpsed two words written on worn paper.

_"Be ready."_

_~N._

Say what you will about the gold cloaks and their ineptitude, but Cersei clearly had most of the city guard wrapped around her finger, perhaps even tighter than her own Lannister guards served. These men moved when she told them to move, jumped as high as she willed them. Poor sods likely held their piss until she released them to at that.

Ha! It almost made him laugh.

But there was no time for japes and soon enough he was let down to the bay; to death and doom, or freedom and finery. It would be one or the other, no mistake. The crowd was restless and made bloodthirsty by the long wait. They _howled _when they say him; lords and ladies alike calling out for his "twisted little head" as the guards led him down the stairs, through the square to his final destination. He'd have a prime view of the battle to come, but it was there that he found an unlikely ally awaiting him in the shade.

"Aha!" a rich, exultant voice greeted him as he shuffled near. "There you are. I was beginning to wonder when you'd arrive."

Prince Oberyn Martell reclined languidly beneath a golden canopy with all the coiled tension of an angry viper, paramour curled around one hand, a fistful of grapes clutched in the other as a handmaiden in a flowing blue dress attended them. She tucked her head aside but Tyrion paid her little mind. One had but to glimpse the Dornishman's face to know his mood and the prince was positively seething. His attire was not much changed since they'd last spoke at the Purple Wedding, though Ellaria had thankfully rid herself of that ghastly headdress she'd worn since then. A brief, bitter flash of joy snapped through Tyrion as he recalled his nephew's untimely death, despite the trouble it had caused him in the long run.

Regardless of today's outcome, the Seven Kingdoms were better off without that little _twat_ on the throne. Of that much he was certain.

It almost made him want to find the poisoner and shake their hand. Almost.

He was less certain, however, of the Red Viper's intentions.

"Why are you here?"

"Word has it you found yourself quite the capable champion." the Prince of Dorne purred, dropping a grape into his mouth. "A man brave enough to face the Mountain? I wanted to see him for myself."

"He found me." the words sounded like a lame duck, even to Tyrion's own ears.

Bright eyes flashed with intrigue. "Did he now? And where is he, this champion of yours?"

Ah, of course.

Oberyn loathed Tywin Lannister with a bitter and burning passion born of equal parts grief and hate, but he despised Gregor Clegane all the more. Any chance to see that brute suffer would be one he eagerly indulged in with vigor. Still he seemed...agitated today, moreso than usual. A tiny voice in the back of his head wondered what might have happened had the viper declared for him as his champion. The prince was said to be nigh-on unstoppable with a spear. But no...after what he'd seen last night...he rather liked his chances with the Man of Many Faces.

Before he could think to defend his champion's honor Ellaria perked up and smiled cheekily. "Is that him over there?"

Sure enough he glimpsed a hooded figure in dark boiled leather armor striding in their direction with lazy grace. Very _light_ armor. Was he going to fight the Mountain like that? Light armor was all well and good one sought to move about the battlefield quickly, but it provided precious little protect against an ax or a greastword-the latter of which Clegane was known to use. A lone arm rose to greet them as he drifted across the yard. His very presence set the crowd alight with curiosity,

Tyrion grimaced up at him. "You're late."

And so the Man of Many Faces was. He even apologized for it.

"Sorry about that," was that _blood _on his armor and dagger? Where had he been? "I was...delayed."

His grimace grew deeper still.

"An assassin?"

"Nope. Kingsguard." the blond informed him with a chipper smile as he idly continued to clean his weapon. "Meryn Trant. I wasn't aware I rated such an _esteemed _killer. How kind." his voice dripped with derision at the mere mention of the known abuser. Offered me a heavy bag of gold to convince me this was a fool's errand; said the services of some Flea-Bottom cutthroat would be better spent, and I quote: "in the service of Her Grace" that I should give up and let you die. He wouldn't let me pass and when I did, he drew his sword. So I cut his throat and let him bleed out in an alley somewhere. Seems your sister doesn't much like the idea of someone fighting for you."

"Well," he managed a weak smile, "Its good to know you can't be bought. If I make it through this day, I'll see you richly rewarded." he swore.

"Hmm. Lannisters pay their debts." that hooded head bobbed. "But you are not a Lannister; thus, you owe me nothing."

"You keep saying that," the dwarf gave a chagrined sigh. "I'm beginning to think you know something I don't."

Oberyn boomed a laugh, a smile blooming on his face.

"I _thought _that might have been you, my friend." he hummed, rising from his seat to greet him. "Up to your old tricks again, I see?"

Blue eyes twinkled merrily beneath the hood. "I thought you'd be here."

"Ha!" the prince flung up his arms. "Where else would I be?!"

Ellaria shifted on the cushion as they spoke, and belatedly the dwarf realized she'd kept her amber robe open against the heat of the King's Landing. Once more her handmaiden stole another glance their way, but her face was gone again before he had a chance to speak with her, tucked into a pale blue shawl eve as Tyrion tried to catch a glimpse. Who was the girl? Why did she keep looking at him?

"Oh, take off that damn thing and stop hiding already." Naruto reached out and in a flash of blue fabric, her identlty was revealed.

Fair of face and dark of hair he recognized her immediately, though her face cringed away in shame.

"Shae...?!"

Her eyes widened. Her lip trembled. Her entire body shook, as though she might fly apart at any moment. As soon as he said her name, she could hold herself together no longer.

"My Lion!"

Then she flew at_ him._

Suspicion and paranoia had Tyrion nearly jerking back, half-expecting an attack when she lunged at him; a knife in the heart, or a dagger to his throat. It never came. Instead she buried her head into his shoulder with all the sorrow of a wailing widow and seized him in an iron embrace, blubbering and weeping, begging for his forgiveness for all she'd said and done. At first he stiffened in her grasp, understandably loathe to trust her. A minute passed. Then another. Another still. Yet even when her tears dried, she made no move to release him. Such a startling change of pace-the dwarf didn't know what to make of it, of her, of anything. He could scarce get a word in edgewise, such was the intensity with which she railed at him. sorrow. Awkwardly, his small arms rose to pat her back.

Belatedly, he glimpsed the Man of Many Faces gazing back at him and recalled the words he'd spoken last night.

...thank you."

Naruto merely inclined his head and stepped forward.

With a ceremonious fanfare of drums and trumpets, Ser Gregor Clegane strode into view and all joy fled from Tyrion like a craven at the battlefield. His very presence seemed to suck the sound from the air. The man was even larger than he remembered. He didn't want to die. Not here. Not now. Not with Shae in his arms, not with Father and his lying slut of a sister glaring bloody red daggers at him from the pavilion. Doubtless they saw their motley little band-saw Shae-and were even now thinking of ways to hurt him. _Her._ No. Not now. Not ever. Never again. He wanted her to _live_ gods damnit, consequences be damned.

"You're going to fight_ that?"_ Ellaria whimpered, flinching back from the sight.

Oberyn chuckled anew. "No my dear, he's going to_ kill _that."

There it was, that voice; a cold note freezing over any such warmth he might've possessed.

One horn blast followed his words and Grand Maester Pycelle limped out into the arena, bones creaking with every step.

"In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this man...Tyrion Lannister." he doddered on at a snail's pace, heedless of the crowd's impatience. "May the Mother...grant him mercy. May the Father...grant them such justice as they deserve. May the Warrior...guide the hand of-

A contemptible gesture from Tywin himself spurred a second blast of the horn and silenced the doddering maester. He scurried away, quickly with a bow-a white rat fleeing the presence of predators far larger and far more deadly than he-and the combatants took their place.

"You, there. Reveal yourself." his lord father's voice cracked like a whip as Naruto stepped out to meet the Mountain. "I'll not have you hiding behind a mask."

The blond tilted his head, considered, shrugged, and reluctantly did as he was bade.

Beaming, he threw back the cloak and revealed his "face" to the world.

Tyrion sucked in a sharp breath.

He'd expected Naruto take on the appearance of another of course; given the blond's propensity for disguising himself, he'd been well-prepared for surprises. He'd fully expected to find the face of Eddard Stark or some other dead lord lurking under that cowl. Possibly some Dothraki savage. After all, it served little purpose if the whole of King's Landing knew Naruto's true identity. That wouldn't do at all. No doubt his sweet sister would be howling for his head the moment the Mountain toppled. If he toppled. Tyrion fought down a grimace and glanced back at Clegane, fighting down a shudder as he watched him heft that bastard sword as though it were naught but a feather on his shoulder.

Gods that one was big. Could he take him?

Once the battle was concluded-assuming he survived-the three of them would slip away in the confusion. And the world would be haunted by the notion that dead men walked the streets of Kings Landing. If things went well and according to plan, they'd stay awhile yet to revel in the chaos. If not...well. He'd heard Essos was lovely this time of year.

Instead when the hood flew away, he found a face he didn't know.

A fresh face with pale skin, dark curly hair, and darker eyes.

Seven hells! Who was _that_ supposed to be?

"Why, hello, lords and ladies of Westeros!" his pleasant voice rang out across the arena in a raucous laugh as he raised his arms and faced the crowd, every word, oozing with sardonic smarm and charm. "So nice to meet you all. I have been looking forward to this day for...well!" he paused, head bobbing in thought. "Lets just say quite some time." when a ripple of confusion answered him, he greeted them with an eerie smile. "Shall we get on with it then? The Mountain isn't going to flay himself now, is he?"

There it was, the hint dropped for all to hear.

Oberyn planted a hand over his mouth to stifle his own laughter.

Looking back, Tyrion had no way of knowing that the Man of Many Faces had disguised himself as one Ramsay Bolton.

In hindsight he would realize made a cruel sort of sense; by taking the face of the son of the new Warden of the North, he had deliberately destabilized the realm without inspiring false hope in the those still loyal to House Stark. Had he taken on the guise of a certain Khal, the Dragon Queen across the Narrow Sea would've been enraged to hear of it. Regardless of the outcome, word would get out. Perhaps even Varys might be taken in by it...or allow the lie to fester like an open wound. Hmm. Likely the latter. Instead he'd chosen the face of someone meant to stir the pot that was King's Landing.

_And he played the part viciously._

"And who are you?" his lord father demanded.

"Roose Bolton sends his regards, m'lord." The Man of Many Faces hummed, sketching a low bow that was too short by half. "He regrets that he couldn't be here to fight himself, but the Warden of the North has far more important matters to attend than an old lion past his prime."

The world went silent and a cold chill encapsulated the stands.

Even Tyrion flinched from the insult.

He had only ever once seen Tywin that angry before; and he never cared to speak of that horrible moment again. All that frigid fury fell upon the Many of Many Faces now. Yet he played his part brilliant, that sly smile never once wavering in the face of the Warden's towering fury. It only grew when the Lord of Casterly Rock took his seat and waved a hand to commence the slaughter. Oh, there would be a reckoning for this, Tyrion knew, but perhaps that was the point. Ah, but the bout had begun and he found his attention torn elsewhere as the men circled one another.

Gregor Clegane laughed.

"You're small. Tiny. I'll crush you."

Naruto turned to face him, rounding on the man with a pleased purr.

"Will you, now?" He cocked his head to the right, heedless of the disguise. "Do you know who I am?"

Credit where it was due, Clegane was fast. Very fast. Naruto was still speaking when he surged forward.

_"Some dead man!"_

A booted foot shout outward to meet his charge, cannoning into the giant's chest to send him staggering backward.

"I know you, Gregor Clegane. Rapist. Murderer. Defiler. You're quite a piece of work." the exchange startled off amicably enough, but within moments his once-pleasant voice oozed with a venom that would've put the Red Viper himself to shame, such was their heat. "No no, you don't know me. But _I_ know _you,_ and all your deepest, darkest secrets."

Something in those words must've set the larger man off; because he lunged again, and with surprising speed for a man of that size.

"We've all heard the stories, have we not? Gregor Clegane. The Mountain Who Rides! Quite the title." Rather than meed his charge head on, the whiskered warrior stepped aside, allowing his quarry to bull past like a wild animal. Cold steel flashed red in the sunlight and a dagger flicked out, swatting the helmet from his head to send him stumbling away. "You dashed an infant's head against a wall like an egg. _Their head." _in the roaring lunge that followed, the whiskered warrior stepped under the giant's wild swing and casually struck him in the face with a stinging backhand, rapping his open palm across the larger man. "Then you throttled a little girl hiding under her bed. A child. Shame."

"Shut up!" the Mountain roared, to no avail.

"You raped a woman and made her watch. Shame." when the giant cut out at his legs the blond retaliated in the most unorthodox of fashion; he simply stomped on it, bringing a steel-shod boot down to trap the blade against the floor. "Then you killed her too." leaning over the entrapped sword, he bared his teeth in a low hiss and slammed his forehead into the larger man's skull. "Ellia Martell. Sister to Oberyn Martell. You raped her. Murdered her. Killed her children."

_"Raaargh!"_

He caught the clumsy punch and pushed Clegane away as though he were naught but a naughty child. Again he stepped in and again a red dagger flicked out quick as lighting. This time he aimed for the face. For the left eye even now glowering at him, and the cheek below it. This time the Mountain's scream was one of pain, not rage, as he struggled to hold his face together.

"Who gave the order?" the dagger parted a seam in his thigh, hobbling him. "Confess."

Prince Oberyn burst up from his seat, grinning like a madman. _"Yes!"_

"You...I'll kill you...crush your skull!"

"Will you now?" Taut knuckles snapped upward into Clegane's windpipe, turning his stumbling charge him into a reeling wheeze. "You cannot crush what you cannot catch."

"Words, words, words!" Foam frothed at the larger man's mouth. "Too many words! Stop talking! Stand and fight...!"

His opponent merely beckoned him forward, luring the larger man in.

Then he blitzed him.

In the coming days the bards would sing of this day; perhaps given time, Tyrion would even remember some of them. For now he was too preoccupied by the dance that followed. One couldn't rightly call it a fight at that; Gregor struck about himself wildly with his greatsword, yet for every swing three more cuts bloomed on his face. That deadly bar of steel screamed southward but the whiskered warrior simply swayed three steps to the right and allowed the blade to strike the stone with sonorous clang. Metal blurred in his hand, seeking the joints in the Mountain's mighty armor. Death by a thousand cuts.

Then the knife found its sheathe between Gregor's legs-through his armor!-and the world gasped.

Blood sluiced to the floor as Naruto wrenched the blade free. Every male fought down a collective wince. Shae and Ellaria turned their heads into their lovers shoulders. Not Clegane. The man yowled like a wild animal-like a dog-and dropped to his knees. Unwise, given his opponent's viciousness. Another dagger ripped through his face and he convulsed, swinging wildly. Until said dagger found his arm.

"Bastard...!"

"Confess." that implacable visage gaze down at him, like a stony shore.

"Never!" Piggish eyes glared up at him, wildly defiant.

"Then you won't be needing_ this."_

Naruto hacked his nose off and the words pitched into a reedy whine. Distantly, Tyrion heard Prince Oberyn roar his approval.

"Ellia Martell," the giant rasped, wheezing like a whale, "'I... did it...I killed her children and made her watch. Then I... smashed her head in...LIKE THIS!"

There it was, one final, desperate grab, a wild attempt to pin the blond to the floor and squeeze the life out of him. The Man of Many Faces realized his peril and jerked backwards, leaving the Mountain to crumble to the floor like the great avalanche he was, leaving those large, bloodied fingers to grasp at sundered stone.

Then he stepped in and the daggers danced anew.

One screamed down and took an ear, drawing another snarl. "And who gave the order?!"

...Tywin...!" the word was a howl. "Tywin Lannister!"

And the world rippled.

Oberyn threw his arms out and roared with triumph, but there was a bitter edge to his smile, because he'd heard Clegane's confession. They all had. Tyrion nearly guffawed. If Dorne didn't have reason enough to declare war before, they certainly did now.

Naruto's face creased in a smile through his disguise. "Good boy."

Then, in a towering show of fury, he did exactly what Clegane had tried to do unto him.

"And for being such a good boy...

Forcing the wounded warrior onto his back, the blond mounted him and seized him by the skull, pressing both thumbs against his eye sockets and the eyeballs within. Giant hands pawed at his face to no avail; he had his prize now and would not be denied. Even as thick fingers weakened by wounds clawed feebly at his face he found purchase and ground his fingers into the larger man's eyes. Someone in the crowd shrieked, but he didn't relent, biting down as Gregor roared out at him. That roar warping into a scream as the pressure readily intensified, the skull breaking beneath his grasp...until he squeezed harder.

An awful, high shriek gave answer.

...you can die now." The Man of Many Faces snarled. "Aren't I generous?"

"Enough of this farce!" a thunderous voice boomed. "He's beaten! Stop this nonsense at once!"

Perhaps realizing what was about to happen, Tywin had risen from his seat, and Cersei with him. Or perhaps he just didn't want to lose such a useful dog. Regardless, he'd acted too late to save the man. Even Oberyn and Ellaria were standing now, watching with rapt attention as the Mountain writhed and begged the gods for mercy as "Ramsay" continued to crush his face. None gave answer, nor did they intervene on Clegane's behalf. And why would they? The gods were cunts. Tyrion felt a small, spiteful satisfaction at the horror etched in his sweet sister's face. Make an impression, Naruto said. He was about to do that all that and more.

Naruto's sole concession was a scoff. "I think...not."

All at once, the Mountain's skull detonated in a viciously _visceral_ spray.

A distant part of Tyrion was vaguely aware of Shae reeling and clutching at his hand, of the shrieks that followed when Clegane's head exploded. The screams of the lords and ladies alike tore through the arena in a great crashing wave as bloody viscera spattered the arena. Some retched. Others fainted outright. He cared naught for them. He only had eyes for his family. Jaime looked horrified, yet delighted by this victory; because Tyrion would live. Cersei's mouth was torn somewhere between a snarl or a grimace at being denied her "vengeance", and as for Tywin...

Oh dear, the Warden of the West was positively_ livid._

To the untrained eye one might think Tywin Lannister was perfectly calm as he gazed down at him. Tyrion knew better. It was the lack of visible emotion on his father's face that foretold the coming storm; a howling fury that would scour everyone and everything clean. There it was again. He'd only ever been on the receiving end of that fury once before in his youth. Once had been more than enough for him and poor, poor Tysha. Under normal circumstances, Tyrion might've balked and tried to hide from his father's wrath. He almost wondered if the old lion would simply have them killed just to remove this blot on his reputation.

But now? At this very moment?

He couldn't resist rubbing salt in the wound.

Perhaps that was petty of him; perhaps he was simply feeling overly bold as the Man of Many Faces-still bloodied from his brutality-calmly climbed off Clegane's corpse and waltzed across the arena to his side. _A statement indeed,_ he mused darkly. The world would never forget this. Tywin certainly wouldn't. He'd likely have a bounty put out on the Boltons before nightfall, and ravens flying soon after that. Hopefully the Man would change his face somewhere in the interim. Ah, but Naruto was beside him now and he found his cares slipping away in the fog of joyous elation.

Sneering at his lord father, the dwarf sketched a shallow bow.

"I believe the gods have spoken, _Father."_ he all but spat the word. "I am innocent."

From that single proud declaration, this strange twist of fate, the world of Westeros changed forever.

**A/N: And so the Mountain falls.**

**I know some people might not be happy with Naruto disguising himself as Ramsay Bolton, but there was a plan behind it. Our boy's trying to sow chaos and destabilize the realm-much like a certain slimy snake-but unlike Littlefinger, he's chosen a more...direct method. I think I captured the bastard's personality quite well. He's...one of the few characters who genuinely spooks me a little. Few can hope to inspire fear like Ramsay.**

**Moreoever, he made Gregor Clegane confess, in full view of the lords and ladies of Kings Landing. ****Now the Boltons are going to suffer. ****And none shall weep for them.**

**Its only natural that Naruto would have good ties to Dorne...he's just as much a free spirit as them, when it comes down to it.**

**But our boy and Tyrion aren't done yet, and there will be much more chaos before this is done.**

**You thought this chapter was insane? Wait 'till the next one...!**

**So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...**

**...Review, Would You Kindly? And of course, enjoy the preview! **

**(Previews!)**

_Oberyn whistled softly._

_"Somehow, I never get used to that."_

_Naruto rolled his eyes. "You've seen it a dozen times now."_

_"Ha! Even so!"_

* * *

_Tyrion sighed. __"Surely a woman or two would-_

_"No." the tankard crunched down on the table, drawing a jolt from him. "No women. No men, either."_

_"What **do** you want, then?"_

_"To keep you alive." the ninja's words were muffled around his meal. "And to find an answer."_

_"An answer to what?" The dwarf's brow rose in mild confusion._

_"Why I'm still alive."_

* * *

_"Would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then?"_

_"You're a better man than me, doing what you did and not telling anyone. You saw evil, and you acted to prevent it." The Man of Many faces shrugged, sheathing his sword. "Sometimes wicked men must die for good men to live. That's how the world works. If I had been there, if I had seen what you saw," __Something ugly flashed through those blue eyes, high and wild and so very bitter,__ "I'd have done the same."_

_Jaime actually blinked at that. How rare to meet someone who didn't judge him._

_A hand clapped him on the back and then the whiskered warrior was past, striding into shadow._

_"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come." his voice rippled in the dark. "Goodbye, Son of Tywin. We will not meet again."_

* * *

_"And who are you?"_

_The woman flashed Tyrion a small smile._

_"I'm not him, if that's what you're wondering." she beamed with a careworn smile. "Your friend...needs someone to look after him every now and again. Lest he forget himself."_

**R&R~! =D**


	3. That I Must Bow So Low (Interlude)

**A/N: ****A/N: *EDIT***

**Behold the trolls in the reviews. Now you see what I'm dealing with. So sick of this...**

**I need to get away from the Fate Series for a bit.**

**Folks are asking what's wrong with me. You don't want to know the answer.**

**Lets just say...I have mental problems. For the sake of my identity, I won't elaborate further.**

**I've also suffered some nasty betrayals courtesy of friends and family, so I don't know how to feel about that, either.**

**I'm trying to be a good person...I'm trying to be nice...but some days are harder than others. Two jobs only make it that much harder.**

**And then there's the writing side of things. Considering that "A Most Unlikely Drifter" and then "Sage" got all but lambasted, I thought it was time for a change. So here, I suppose. Lets see if this gets any reviews.****I have plenty of others series to update, but it seems folks are sick of Fate. Maybe I should stop. Maybe I should leave.**

**I don't enjoy much. Not anymore. **

**I'm starting to feel downright apathetic since last week and that's...a bit concerning given that I'm usually a pretty happy person.**** I almost feel like I'm being taken for granted in general as of late. I started the daily updates and the A Most Unlikely series to make people happy. Oddly enough it seems to have had the opposite effect as of late. What was once a flood of reviews has slowed to nary a trickle, hell most of the reviews for the last chapter of "Drifter" were flames or complaints.**

**So lets shift gears. **

**I've got some serious thinking to do in the next few days here.**

**Once more, I own no references, quotes, or relations to other media.**

**Sorry that this is short, but I'm working doubles as of late with little time to rest.**

**Still, I hope you all enjoy this, and I look forward to reading your reviews when I get back~!**

_"I cannot be bribed, for I have no need of jewels or money."_

_"I cannot be persuaded, for I possess one goal."_

_"I cannot be slain, for I have many faces."_

_"I cannot be stopped."_

_"I cannot."_

_~A Man._

**That I Must Bow So Low (Interlude)**

_"I'm thinking about writing a book. The Imp and the Exile. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"_

Naruto didn't look up from his flagon of ale; if Tyrion didn't know better he would've thought the whiskered warrior asleep at the table. But the dwarf _did _know better and thus wasn't fooled in the least when his erstwhile ally abrupt swept up his cup and downed it in a single cup. He caught a gleam of irritated blue within his hood and thus flinched only slightly when that mailed fist slammed down against the table. Spooked by the sudden gesture, one of the serving girls furtively scurried forward and hastened to refill his battered mug.

"You're right," Tyrion sighed into the ensuing silence as she poured. "How rude of me. If not for you, I wouldn't be here. How does the Exile and the Imp sound?"

The Man of Many Faces waved her away, but he did deign to look at Tyrion at last. He supposed that was a victory.

"I don't care about the bloody book." the blond said at last. "Why are we in a brothel?"

"Why not a brothel?" the dwarf shot back. "This is the best place to be."

Unspoken were the words, _we won't be heard here._

His guard caught the hint instantly.

"You have Shae."

"I do. Best that she not see me here." the little Lannister agreed amicably, quietly reminding himself that he was doing what was best for her; with his father's temper still running red hot, it was best to keep her within arms reach or out of sight. As he couldn't guarantee the latter every minute of every day, he'd temporarily left her in the care of Prince Oberyn. That man, at least, had no loyalty to Tywin Lannister. He'd probably keep her from Cersei solely out of spite as well. Shae hadn't been happy about these temporary arrangements, but she'd accepted them nonetheless.

Still, the silence descended once more like a pall between the two men.

So, Tyrion he did what he did best.

Talk.

"Quite unfortunate what happened to the Boltons." he began in a low voice, words barely audible above the buzz of conversation and more...excited sounds of the establishment. They were far less likely to draw attention to themselves here, even with the recent upheaval. "I suspect the new Wardens of the North will find their tenure very short-lived as a result of their egregious actions today. My father has already ordered a sizable force of men to their doorstep. I suspect he intends to rip them out of Winterfell, root and stem for their...disloyalty."

"Yes, how _unfortunate."_

Not liking that tone, Tyrion paused and laid a hand on his ally's arm.

"I _am _grateful you know." he said softly. "If not for you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

The Man of Many Faces granted him a grim grin. "Oh, you would've found a way. Your brother wouldn't let you die."

For once, words failed him. Well. That wouldn't do!

...I hear Essos is lovely this time of year."

_That _granted him a baffled look.

"I suppose it is...why?"

"Oh, no reason." snatching up his flagon, the dwarf drained it and immediately blanched at the strength of the drink. "I was just thinking about taking an...extended leave of absence."

"Tyrion, you're a free man."

"Perhaps." the little Lannister granted, beckoning for another flagon for his comrade to replace the one he'd taken, "But for how long? As things are, I'd consider it a miracle if my father doesn't concoct some way to have me killed within a fortnight. And if he doesn't, Cersei will."

Naruto drummed his fingers against the creaking table, pausing just long enough to accept his new drink.

"Do you want to stay?"

Tyrion bit back the urge to bash his head against the nearest wall.

"Very much so." he confessed, taking another drink. "But not like this. I may be good at the Game, but I'm not eager to have another brush with death so soon in my lifetime. Who knows?" another reluctant sip, "After all, you might not be there the next time."

Naruto's flagon struck the table. "I meant what I said; I'll always be here."

Perhaps it was the ale, but those words-the way they were said-made Tyrion feel a touch surly.

"While I am..._flattered _by your loyalty," he slurred the last only slightly, "Even you cannot be everywhere at once."

A blond brow rose.

"Can't I?"

Wordlessly, he snapped his fingers.

_And everyone stood up._

As Tyrion frowned at this sudden turn of pace and struggled to make sense of it, the entire parlor turned to face them. No. Him. As one each waved a hand before their face, which quite suddenly, wasn't theirs at all. The smiling visage of Naruto gazed back at him from each visage, young and old alike. None of them spoke, even as the original took another mild sip of his stiff drink. Tyrion snatched his own up and drained it, only to find that same serving girl from before-now wearing the face of a certain smirking blond-ready to fill it again.

This was alarming.

Then, at some unseen command their hands moved again and the illusions-false faces!-reasserted themselves. They dipped a bow, and as a single unit, went back to their business. Everyone. Every merchant and vendor and guard and whore. All of them. Each of them. They just...went right back to what they were doing. Tyrion. As if they'd always been doing it, right from the start. As if they hadn't been wearing his face a moment ago; as if he'd just imagined it all. But he hadn't, had he? That was all too real.

Gulping, he turned to face the bemused blond.

"How did you...?"

Oh.

He'd forgotten about the copies-no, what had Naruto called them? Aha! Clones. Yes that was it. Had he seeded the brothel with them beforehand? If so, what had he done with everyone else? Had he simply replaced the lot of them when no one was looking? That was...frightfully concerning. He'd already seen the sheer volume the Man of Many Faces could create when he wanted to. Were he to actually try, well. Half of King's Landing could be under his thumb, and no one would be any wiser.

"I made a promise." his companion replied. "I keep my promises, Tyrion."

The dwarf felt his throat close, briefly choked by sheer emotion.

"Yes," he murmured into his drink. "You do, don't you?"

"Hey, I haven't failed you yet now, have I-

_"Aha! There you are, my friend!"_

Before the Man of Many Faces could finish replying to that, the door to the parlor swept open all at once; to their credit, none of the disguised doppelgangers broke character. Tyrion could rest assured that this, at least, wasn't a disguised clone. One could never mimic the overabundance of charisma that was Oberyn Martell. Somehow that man managed to stride into the brothel with all the predatory grace of a poisonous viper. Rather fitting, given his epitaph.

"You seem more yourself today."

Naruto gave a gravely grunt as he rose from the table. "As much as I can be these days."

The Prince of Sunspear gave a laugh as he clasped the blond's forearm. "I had not thought to see the mountain so soundly toppled in my lifetime. Well done!"

"Flattery doesn't work on him." Tyrion jawed from his comfortable seat. "I should know. I've tried."

And if this earned him him a mutinous look from his whiskered ally...well. All the more worth it then. He grinned and raised a glass in his honor. If he was going to make _him _uncomfortable with that charade then he could at least repay the favor. What else were friends for if not to drive one another mad? Pehraps that was the ale talking. Perhaps he was simply in a good mood, but he cast the prince a wink.

Oberyn went with it.

"I'm sure the sound of a heavy coin purse does wonders...?"

A beat of uncomfortable silence pushed itself between the unlikely trio.

At the end of it Oberyn scoffed knowingly. "Surely you were paid for your services?"

"He wouldn't let me." the dwarf put in mutinously, "Wouldn't accept a single gold dragon."

"Oberyn...I know what you're thinking." Naruto's voice rose in warning. "Don't go there. Don't you _dare."_

"Nonsense!" the prince batted his words away like so much wind. "I will not hear of it! If you will not accept coin...then perhaps another form of payment will suffice?"

As he looked on, the tips of the young man's ears burning a blazing pink with embarrassment; Tyrion suspected this was a subject the Red Viper of Dorne had broached before. Naruto certainly seemed comfortable enough around him to suggest that they'd known one another long before this. Perhaps the prince was just egging him on. And Tyrion Lannister was many things, but an opportunist was surely one of them. So when such a grand, glorious opportunity came knocking-and though he was just a touch inebriated by now-he seized it with singlehearted good humor.

"I know that look." her jabbed a finger at the Man of Many Faces. "That's why you're so on edge. You need a woman. A wise man once told me there's nothing like a woman after a fight."

"Who told you that?" Naruto and Oberyn asked simultaneously.

"Well...Bronn did." he deflated briefly before rallying. "But still! The fact stands!"

Naruto snorted. "That _does_ sound like something your sellsword would say, just not out loud."

Tyrion sighed. "Surely a woman or two would-

"No." the tankard crunched down on the table, drawing a jolt from them. "No women. No men, either."

"I think you might change your mind," Oberyn soothed, hands rising at the blond's glower. "I have someone with me who would very much like to meet you."

Naruto stilled. "Oberyn, I swear to god-

Too late, the prince clapped his hands. "My dear, please come in!"

He'd scarcely finished speaking before someone strode into the room; at a glance, Tyrion nearly mistook the young woman for a whore. She was certainly dressed...provocatively enough for the occasion. At a glance, one might even mistake her for such. Perhaps that was her intention. No one paid attention to a whore. No one noticed a whore.

_But this was not a whore._

Clad in a gossamer thin crimson gown that was just on the right side of translucent, she was certainly a woman to behold. Hers was a slender figure with curves in all the right places, a sashay to her wide hips alongside a a round posterior and enticing sway to her full-but not too full-bosom that would leave most men drooling. More than that, she had legs for days. Here was a woman who held power both in her will and her wit, who knew she was attractive and _knew _she could seduce anyone she pleased. A cloud of dark curls framed her face, bright eyes offering much, but promising nothing. And her smile, that slight tilt of those full, luscious lips whispered sweet sensual sin itself.

Oh, dear.

Realization broke with the dawn mere moments before Oberyn spoke.

"If I may present my niece, Arianne Martell." he stepped aside to make way for her. "I'm not sure if you remember her. She was just a child the last time you visited Sunspear."

_"I remember."_

Tyrion expected Naruto to give a witty to retort, or some scathing remark. For the first time since he'd met him, the Man of Many Faces, this wandering shinobi who had long ago ceased aging in any conventional sense of the word, actually looked taken aback. He supposed that was to be expected. He just didn't think it was possible. Not for someone like him.

"Hush, sorcerer. Your secret is safe with us. Still, " Arianne stepped forward, curious. "My, you really haven't aged a day."

...comes with the territory." Blue eyes flicked her up and down. "You grew up."

She stepped forward to kiss him and he jerked back.

"Time does not ignore us as it does you." the princess retorted with a roll of her eyes. "So. It _is_ you, then? Ah." a small, secret smile bloomed across her face when he held his tongue. "The silence is your answer. I thought so."

Naruto didn't speak.

"When I was a girl," she continued, guiding his hands to her waist, "I swore revenge against the Mountain for what he did to my aunt." her body pressed closer to his."_To my family._ I fantasized all the ways I was going to kill him when once I grew old enough. Poison, deceit, or a simple gash across the throat. And I decided, that if the day came, and I was unable to take his head-if someone else were to do the deed before I could-then I would _richly _reward whomever struck the killing blow. And now my uncle tells me you orchestrated the events that led to his demise...well. I can think of only one reward great enough for you."

"Come, little Lannister." Oberyn murmured, "Let us leave them to their reward."

Sharp blue eyes flicked toward him when he rose from his seat; and a small part of Tyrion was touched to realize that though most of his attention was decidedly elsewhere, Naruto still had the wherewithal to notice that he had moved. Really, that one took his job too seriously. He looked all of a moment from tearing himself away from Arianne just to make certain he was watched over. Even so, he immediately noticed when one of those disguised doppelgangers peeled off to follow them. Well. He supposed he could stand to give them a few hours to themselves

"Oh, don't mind us." the dwarf waved his goblet at them and sketched a bow. "Have your fun. You've earned it."

Arianne paid the two men no heed as they moved to an adjacent chamber.

She drew closer, her lips brushing the outer lobe of Naruto's ear.

"Now, then, dear. I believe I owe you something...

In a single step, she kissed him fiercely.

This time, Naruto didn't resist.

**A/N: Because that is LITERALLY something Arianne would do.**

**Didn't think she'd appear here, did you?**

** And there we go.**

**Should they go to Essos, I wonder?**

**That'd be fun, but the idea of screwing with Westeros is so much more appealing...**

**I tried to imbue as much classic Game of Thrones into this as I could, none of the disaster that was the last season. I'll be frank, the general lack of response/reviews is slowly murdering me on the home front, as it were. I write as a hobby, sure, but also to make people happy. How can I know if I'm succeeding there if I don't get a response? Everyone's been telling me to stop whinging about the trolls and flames but its FUCKING. HARD. I have to deal with that shit daily. Reviews and positive words make all the difference. **

**So In the Immortal Words of Altas...**

**...Revieeew, Would Ya Kindly?**

**And enjoy these previews!**

**Potential ones, anyway!**

**Which do you like?**

**(Previews!)**

_"Where did he go this time?"_

_A body hurtled across the alleyway._

_Tyrion swore softly and followed the screams._

* * *

_"By order of Cersei Lannister, you are under-_

_"Oh, stop talking." Even through the disguise, he felt the beginnings of a smile form. "__Even like this I could slaughter you to a man; I could kill all of you. Like carving a cake. And you think I need a weapon?"_

_A fresh peal of laughter rose through the bar, silencing those within._

_Slowly, calmly, Naruto set his mug on the table._

_They frowned as it as he leaned back._

_"I'll kill you with this."_

* * *

_"My friend, you are a genius. How is it that you managed to make more gold in a week than most of us hold in a lifetime?"_

_The Man of Many Faces grunted and shuffled over._

_"Luck." he said, snatching up a flagon. "And a good poker Face."_

_...I can't help but notice you empathized the last word." Tyrion chuckled._

**R&R~!**

**=D**


	4. Only A Cat Of A Different Coat

**A/N: ****A/N: *EDIT***

***sigh* **

**Trolls all over the comments again, you'd think they'd be gone by now...**

**WE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!**

**Feels good to be back in the saddle again.**

**Sorry for vanishing, but the show murdered me and my crew. Back in 2019 we tried writing this in the wake of the finale, but we couldn't.**

**It just hurt too much. Every. Single. Time.**

**I won't call it writer's block, but for awhile there, a long while, it truly felt like it. None of us could even bring ourselves to go near anything GOT related. For a grand show like that to simply end on such a rushed note when they easily could've had more all the world-building, characters, and everything to simply be thrown away in favor of shock value... t****hat last season...it just butchered everything.**

**So the team and I sat down, talked things over, and put it to a vote. Some of us were in favor, some of us were against it. Mine was the deciding vote. Seems obvious what it was.**

**We worked long and hard through the night to bring this to you, and we've got more updates on the way. Obviously this tale isn't going to end in a rushed way like Season Eight. We'd sooner chop off our hands than let everyone down like that. Now, I could go on and leave a big honking author's note answering questions...or I can get us back to the story. Let's go with the latter then, shall we?**

**As ever, I own no references, themes, or memes.**

**Yes, this is short, but its a way of getting the gears moving again.**

**Sorry that this is short, but I'm working doubles as of late with little time to rest.**

**Still, I hope you all enjoy this, and I look forward to reading your reviews when I get back~!**

**Once again, references are references and I own nothing. Zilch. Nadda. Reviews are all the payment I'll ever receive.**

_"With your gifts you could rule Westeros. No one would ever know it was you."_

_"I could. I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind once or twice in the last few years. It would be so easy to tip things into chaos, to simply burn everything out of spite. But I have a purpose here now. I have seen a thousand nights and I'll likely see a thousand more once this is through...still, I'll see this done. I promised her that much. Now I have a chance to keep that promise."_

_"Ah, so that's it, then. Why else come with me to this filthy city? Not simply to sell your services...no. You have a purpose here. Perhaps you are protecting something-no. Protecting someone."_

_...Oberyn. If you breathe a word of this to him, I'll kill you."_

_"Perish the thought, my friend!"_

_~a discussion._

**Only A Cat Of A Different Coat**

_Someone had a dagger to his throat._

Jaime had ever been a light sleeper; as such he startled awake, eyes flying wide open the moment cold steel swept under his chin. Naturally his first instinct was to back away from the sharp metal instrument against his jugular, but some stray sixth sense -and the faintest sensation of pressure against his back- stilled the compulsion to jerk backwards to safety. To leap up with a shout, find his sword, fight back this intruder, and win the day. Instead, he had the creeping suspicion something horrible would happen if he tried to move.

It saved his life.

"Not a word, now." a man's low voice breathed in his ear, colder than ice. "Call for your guards and I'll carve a pretty red smile in your neck."

A dark figure awaited him when he opened his eyes, hooded and clad in dark leathers. Even with the moonlight pouring in through the balcony he couldn't see their face, only piercing blue eyes within a strange half-mask concealing their visage. The stranger -assassin?- tilted their head at him and the pressure against his throat intensified tenfold. Damnit. What in the seven hells was going on here?!

"They say a man can bleed out in under a minute if you slit his throat." his captor mused, tugging the blade against his skin. "Care to test that?"

...what do you want? he croaked the words through clenched teeth, fearful of even the slightest twitch.

"Want?" the young man -for this couldn't be anything other than a man- blinked at him for a moment then chuckled, apparently amused by his temerity. "For now, I want you to be keep your voice down. Can you do that? Blink once for yes, twice for no. No sudden movements."

Jaime blinked once.

Those azure orbs crinkled in what might've been a smile. "Good. Now, I'm going to step back. Don't move until I say so."

Soundlessly, he pulled the blade back and did just that, leaving the Lannister free.

"You can stand now."

Jaime rose slowly, suddenly glad he'd slept alone tonight. Cersei would've shrieked if she'd seen someone like this.

"Why are you here?" he inquired.

He spied his sword only a few feet away, resting against the foot of his bed. Had he left it there deliberately? Did he think him so little a threat without his right hand? His fingers twitched, aching to snatch the hilt. It wasn't Oathkeeper, wasn't Valyrian Steel, but surely it would do in a pinch...if he could reach it.

"Take it, if you like." the intruder gestured, his soft voice carrying through the room. "It won't make a lick of difference."

He didn't dare; and so the stranger took it for himself.

"A decent blade." he hummed, unsheathing it and sheathing it again just as swiftly. "Not the one you gave your lady knight, but a fair substitute."

"How did you-

"Its my job to know things. To know people. _Jaime Lannister._ Look what has become of you." those eyes narrowed as his mouth turned down in a scowl behind the mask. "You used to be stronger than this. Now you're a shell of a man hiding behind a white cloak, clinging to worn and faded glory." those blazing blue eyes flicked up and down, considering him as one might a piece of fresh meat. "I came here to talk with you, but perhaps it would be worse to leave you here, festering in your squalor." A pause followed as he gave the matter further consideration. The knife rose again. "Or perhaps I should just put you out of your misery."

"I'd rather we take the first option." Jaime answered honestly.

"Ha!" He thought he saw the Man smile beneath that ebony mask. "I'm sure you'd like that." In a single flourish he sheathed the blade and handed it to him. "Here. May you wield it better than the last. And to answer your question, I'm not here at the behest of anyone," the intruder actually deigned to sketch a shallow bow at that remark. "I merely wanted to see you again before I made my decision."

"Again?" a strange pang of uncertainty stabbed at his heart. "Have we met before?"

"In a sense." This time there could be no mistaking the smile. "More than you'd think, less than you suspect." Bugger him. That wasn't an answer at all.

"Well." he raised his arms. "Here I am. You have me at your mercy."

_"So it would seem."_

A beat of deadly silence pushed between the two of them.

"Thank you." the stranger broke it by bowing his head and the sudden action caused Jaime to jump. "For looking after Tyrion all these years."

Those were not the words he'd expected to hear. Curses maybe, condemnations perhaps, vengeance from the North, even. But this? Gratitude? It made no sense. Why sneak into his chambers just to deliver a message in such a fashion? It boggled the mind; didn't make a lick of sense.

...I beg your pardon?"

"You did a better job than your sister," the assassin continued amicably as he raised his head, "But that's to be expected, I suppose. Cersei was born with too much venom in her veins. I never had much hope for her. But you? Hmm." a low laugh rumbled in the air between them. "_You_ always had potential."

Something in those words rang oddly, but try as he might, he couldn't put his finger on it. Should a stranger be saying such things? They'd never met. He'd never heard this voice before. He knew that. Understood it and accepted it in equal measure...and yet. There was something about those eyes. Something familiar. He'd seen them somewhere before. Frowning, he shook the nostalgia off like an old cloak and forced himself to take a short step forward.

"Are you going to let me go, then?" he challenged, frowned when his killer made no effort to move. "Or kill me? Which will it be?"

"..."

The Man of Many Faces glided forward and Jaime fought down a shiver as the dagger flicked out again to touch a vein in his throat. He was unprotected. Couldn't even defend himself. He could scream, shout for a guard, but what good would that do him? It wouldn't stop his death.

THUNK.

The Kingslayer flinched, but the pain never came.

He opened his eyes to find that wicked knife slammed down against wood rather than flesh.

Gloved fingers peeled away, leaving the blade's bitter edge trapped within the table, and made no move to retrieve it.

"For all your mistakes, you're a good man. You saw Aerys before you all those years ago, recognized his evil, and chose prevent it, regardless of the cost." The Man of Many faces shrugged as he stepped away, keeping one hand between them all the while. "Sometimes wicked men must die for good men to live. That's how the world works. If I had been there at the time, if I had seen what you saw, if I hadn't been blind," Something ugly flashed through those blue eyes, high and wild and so very bitter. "I'd have done the same. For that as well, I thank you."

Jaime actually blinked at that. How rare to meet someone who didn't judge him. But more than that...how did he know?

_"Oh, and one last thing."_

Before he could think to ask what he was up to this time, the man stepped in and grabbed his hand. Not his left, but the ruined stump that was his right wrist. Something sharp and angry pulsed through his arm and for a moment, the merest sliver of a second, Jaime thought he saw the strangers gloved palm pulse a ghastly red color. He couldn't think of any other word for it. And still, the stranger didn't release him. His hand was an iron band clamped around his wrist, firm and unyielding.

"What are you doing?" he frowned.

"Stirring the pot." A low chuckle answered him. "And keeping an old promise; something that should've been done a long time ago."

As he spoke a strange itch manifested at the base of Jaime's shoulder, a vague creeping itch that soon crawled down the length of his arm. He tried to ignore at first, thinking it no more than nerves. What was in itch when his life was in danger? And so he grit his teeth and paid it no mind.

_Then there was pain._

All at once, it rushed to his wrist; a searing wave that cut deeper than any blade, burned brighter than any flame. Agony, white hot, so intense that it burned his vision black. With that, the Man of Many Faces released him and allowed him to collapse with a short cry, a sharp bark of sound that said man muffled with a gloved palm.

"Don't look." the intruder hissed in his ear. "It'll be over soon."

Jaime heard something pop in his ears, felt his wrist writhe and twist as though it had been struck with a thousand needless. The man was right on that much. He couldn't look. He dare not, for fear of what he might find there, for the faint tiny ember of hope that it sparked. Another burst of pain followed, short and sharp and _sudden_ to blind him once more, leaving him gasping on the floor.

Against his own fear, he looked down.

His hand.

No. Impossible.

Tan and twitching, covered in blood, the fingers of his right hand awaited his gaze, spasming as sensations returned to them. With all his will he forced these trembling digits to form a fist. It took some effort, but the stiff digits obeyed him and when they did something cried out in the very depths of his soul. Hand. His hand. His right hand. He could fight again. His mind babbled at the who, what, when, where and why, until he snarled at it to be silent. This was magic. It had to be. Did it matter? Of course it did. Did he care? Not at all.

"I wonder how the people of Kings Landing will react to this," his erstwhile accomplice hummed above him, laughing softly. "You'll be the talk of the city for months on end. The man who grew back an arm overnight. With this, you'll make for an adequate distraction, and I've kept my promise to Joanna. Two birds with one stone."

Footsteps padded back towards him, and the Lannister bristled, clutching his restored limb to his chest.

Distraction? For what? And what did it have to do with his long dead mother? It was too much to take in at once and Jaime's mind spun just trying to process it all. Was this a trick? He could be lying. Twisting his words to distract him. Everyone lied in Kings Landing. And yet his deeds spoke for themselves. Normal men couldn't do this. You couldn't regrow an arm. It just wasn't possible.

"I don't understand...why...?"

"You don't need to understand." Strong arms took hold of his shoulders and hoisted the younger man to his feet. "You only need to act."

"I knew your mother, once upon a time." once again those peerless sapphire orbs turned to regard him. "She would've hated to see you like this. Be a better man, Jaime. For her sake. And stop buggering about with your sister, would you kindly? You'll find no happiness there. Use your sword arm for a proper cause this time...or you might lose it again."

"What do you want from me?!"

"I want you to be the man you were meant to be." A hand clapped him on the back and then the warrior glided past, striding into shadow. "Now, then. I wish you good fortune in the wars to come." his voice rippled in the dark as he pulled up his hood once more. "Goodbye, Son of Tywin. We will not meet again."

"Wait!"

The shadow paused.

"Who are you," he croaked. "Who are you really?"

"Only a cat of a different coat." those ice blue eyes narrowed at him in the gloom. "That's all the truth I know."

With nary a sound, his would be killer -and now savior!- flung himself over the balcony and vanished back into the dark from whence he'd come.

**A/N: ****Feels good to be back.**

**And now Jaime's got his arm back through what he believes to be magical means.**

**Aye, this was more of a teaser than anything else, but it was something Mark and I were able to whip up while we were out on the road. This scene was one we had to leave on the cutting room floor; one because our team couldn't find a place to put the bloody thing, but also due to the aforementioned block our little group was going through. As said during the latest update for Son of the Stag, we've finally managed to push past that and here we are.**

**Ironically, the catalyst to that was being given Season Four as a gift. One of us got it from a friend, and, well, things took off from there.**

**I wouldn't even call it a group, more of a...council? Coalition? Like-minded individuals? Union? Psychopaths? Meh.**

**The next chapter has the real meat of the matter that I'm sure you're dying to see. ****We've had some heavy hints here and there, but nothing has been overtly revealed yet. My team and I are resolved to write again, if only to spite that god awful Eighth Season.**

**So In the Immortal Words of Altas...**

**...Revieeew, Would Ya Kindly?**

**And enjoy the preview!**

**You know, it makes sense that folk would think chakra to be magic; from their point of view, it certainly is. And since good 'ol Naruto retained that mark of his...why...**

**...he can work some impressive feats indeed.**

**Next time: That's All The Truth I Know.**

**(Previews!)**

_"You want to meet her. The Mother of Dragons."_

_"I find myself curious." Tyrion declared breezily. "They say her dragons are magnificent."_

_"Do you think me a fool?" Naruto clicked his tongue in mild admonishment. "You just want to get out of Westeros. Away from your family. Away from Cersei."_

_"For the time being, yes." caught in a lie, the dwarf drained his flagon and leaned back in his chair. "Can you blame me? Then again, I'm not the one running across rooftops at night working magic."_

_"Hmm." The Man of Man Faces didn't wince respond to the jab; instead he merely drummed his fingers against the table. And as he did, a slow smile spread across his face. "You know, I've never seen a dragon before..._

_"Neither have I." Aha! He knew that smile. The man was starting to warm to the idea, Tyrion just knew it. He just needed a push. A nudge. A reason to accept. "She'd be a fool to turn us away. We have Oberyn's backing already. And with you skills...well." he sipped fro his cup again. "I dare say she'd be very interested in you. Need I say more?"_

_"I'm not above taking her over my knee if she's a brat."_

_Tyrion coughed harshly on his wine._

_"Please don't do that."_

**R&R~!**

**=D**


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